


make me feel this way.

by redhoods



Series: kinktober 2019. [7]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Clothed Sex, Frottage, Lace Panties, M/M, No Spoilers, Post-Canon, Trans Claude von Riegan, Trans Male Character, brief appearance by hilda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 20:33:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20981951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhoods/pseuds/redhoods
Summary: Claude is grinning at him, that looks to spells innocent to so many fools that are charmed by Claude’s mischief, but Lorenz knows him too well, has seen that look too many times.He holds up a finger, “Do not even think about it.”The grin only gets bigger and he realizes belatedly that Claude’s slowly backing him down the hall towards goddess knows where. Lorenz stops back, plants his feet, and Claude’s eyes drag purposefully down his body, “Lorenz, have I mentioned that you look divine tonight?”





	make me feel this way.

**Author's Note:**

> kinktober. clothed. this happened, idk, it's soft and indulgent and way less filthy than i originally planned but like...
> 
> The Potential Followups.
> 
> also claude is trans though it's got no real effect on this, but... Just Know That. esp for future things.
> 
> title from say you won't let go by james arthur.

It happens when he’s drifting by one of the doors that leads deeper into the manor, a door that’s supposed to be locked, but it opens a crack without him realizing it. A hand cups over his mouth and an arm fits around his waist and Lorenz is unceremoniously rugged right into the hallway. 

His back bumps and broad chest and he can smell spices and fresh air and bowstring wax. And he knows that smell, more than propriety says he should, but it doesn’t stop Lorenz from turning and whacking Claude on the chest with the back of his hand. The hand on his mouth disappears and Lorenz takes that opportunity as well to hiss out, “Claude!”

Claude is grinning at him, that looks to spells innocent to so many fools that are charmed by Claude’s mischief, but Lorenz knows him too well, has seen that look too many times.

He holds up a finger, “Do not even think about it.”

The grin only gets bigger and he realizes belatedly that Claude’s slowly backing him down the hall towards goddess knows where. Lorenz stops back, plants his feet, and Claude’s eyes drag purposefully down his body, “Lorenz, have I mentioned that you look divine tonight?”

“Hmph,” Lorenz narrows his eyes, but it does nothing to diminish Claude’s bright eyes or sly grin.

Damn him, he knows too much.

“It’s true,” Claude begins and Lorenz thinks about stepping on his feet, grinding the heel of his boot into his toes, but Claude reaches up and brushes fingers along the curtain of his hair at his jaw, gentle and feather light, “I’ve hardly been able to take my eyes off you all night.”

The effort it takes to not tilt his cheek into that calloused palm, to not close his eyes and simply sink into what Claude is offering, is staggering. Lorenz gathers some long since banished animosity, “Flatterer.”

Claude laughs, a quiet sound that rushes across Lorenz’s neck and collarbone and, _oh_, when had he gotten so close, “You’re too clever for flattery, Lorenz.”

“Well, you’re right about that,” Lorenz agrees with a delicate sniff.

“I am hoping, however, that honest compliments will work,” Claude counters with a wink, thumb on his chin, fingers curling under as he tips Lorenz’s face down, so careful, so gentle—

—and how many times has Lorenz watched this man, watched the flex of his arms, the curl of his fingers, the breadth of his shoulders as he drew his bowstring, as he released arrow after carefully aimed arrow in their enemies, into those that would hurt them without hesitation—

—and Lorenz lets himself be tipped, leans down the fraction of space that Claude isn’t pressing into so that their lips can brush.

One soft brush turns into two turns into three, and Claude is backing them up once more and Lorenz should really investigate this instead of letting himself simply be led, but Claude can be very distracting when he wants to be. And clearly, he wants to be with whatever nefarious scheme he’s cooked up in that too clever brain of his. 

Claude’s hand falls from his chin to his waist and the touch of a tongue to his lower lip has him sighing quietly against his mouth. Of course, he opens though, and then Claude is licking into his mouth. 

They’ve stopped moving, he realized almost at the same time he realizes he’s draped his arms over Claude’s broad shoulders at some point. Lorenz hums, a sound that he’s not sure quite qualifies as a moan, slides his hand up the back of Claude’s neck and into his hair, tugging a little. Enough to break the kiss, to pull Claude back, so he can observe their new setting.

“Claude,” he says quietly, like Claude isn’t grinning like the cat got the canary at him right now, “Claude, this is the _pantry_,” he adds, more of a hiss. He refrains from stamping his foot, though the urge is there, some buried thing from his early teen years that would make Claude laugh until he cried if he knew about it.

Thing is, Claude’s already turning away from him, pushing the door shut behind them and pushing a chair against it. Notably though, he doesn’t wedge the chair under the handle, which Lorenz isn’t particularly proud to admit that he’s seen Claude do before.

“Why is there a chair in here?” He asks, even though he knows the answer.

“Sweetheart,” Claude says, low and quiet, and sinks into the chair, beckons with a finger.

Lorenz exhales, knowing that from here, any protest he voices will simply be token, “You, Claude Riegan, are nothing but trouble,” he breathes out, voice too high, but he’s beyond caring.

Point of no return as he steps closer, debates removing his boots as he slides a leg over Claude’s lap and sinks down against him until they’re chest to chest. He splays a hand wide over Claude’s chest, curls his fingers to dig his nails in through the layers of Claude’s clothes, “How long have you been planning this?”

“Oh,” Claude says, not the soft surprised ‘oh’, but the ‘oh, I’ve been planning this for weeks’.

Rather than hear all the detailed plans that will surely make his head spin, Lorenz kisses him.

Claude surges under him, up into the kiss, tilting his head to turn the kiss into a slick slide, teeth against Lorenz’s lower lip, there and gone a teasing pressure. Warm handles cradle his waist, then down his hips, the outsides of his thighs, back up, like Claude isn’t sure where he wants to touch.

Lorenz knows better, but isn’t going to call him for it now, content and happy to let himself be kissed, touched.

Then those hands stop on his thighs, curve inward, rucking his skirt up higher than it end up when he’d sat astride Claude’s thighs. He exhales when Claude breaks the kiss, his lips swollen and that deep almost wine color they get thanks to his darker skin. Also now glossy.

“That’s a look you should consider,” he breathes out, reaching up to drag his thumb along Claude’s plush lower lip.

Claude’s eyes are dark now, deep forest green, and his mouth falls open just enough for his tongue to flick out across the pad of Lorenz’s thumb, before retreating again, “Can I touch you?” He asks, lips scraping gentle over his thumb.

Canting his head, Lorenz drags his thumb down, draws it across Claude’s chin and jaw, across his carefully trimmed facial hair, “You already are, darling,” he says quietly, but inclines his head, “You can continue, if you’d like,” he adds. He continues with his thumb though, brushes it over Claude’s earring then down the line of his throat.

“Remember, quiet,” Claude says, mischief now blunted by the flush of arousal across his cheeks, the thud of his heart under Lorenz’s palm.

That’s all the warning before Claude’s palm cups over him.

Claude goes still under him though, mouth falling open once more as his thumb rubs over the lace he hadn’t expected to find, “Oh,” he says quietly and this one is soft surprise.

Lorenz slants a grin at him even as he rocks gently into Claude’s palm, “You’re not the only one capable of surprises.”

“Clearly not,” Claude’s voice is awe tinged, “I wish we had the time for me to properly appreciate this,” he adds, like he’s not driving Lorenz mad by simply touching his cock through the lace, “another time, I promise.”

Then Claude’s thumb swipes over the head, dragging lace over the sensitive tip and Lorenz shudders, swallowing back a moan. Whatever teasing mood Claude had been in evaporates, his palm rubbing over the length of his cock, thumb sweeping back and forth over the head.

The lace adds a maddening texture to the mix that Lorenz is going to blame for how rapidly he propels to the edge, but Claude knows him too well in return, eases up right before orgasm takes him.

Lorenz groans quietly, chin to his chest, “We can’t stay in here all night,” he breathes out, desperate as he rocks against Claude’s palm, trying to chase friction.

Claude rumbles a laugh that he feels under his palm, “Eager for it, princess?” Though he doesn’t wait for a response, presses back in with his palm, thumb against the head of his cock as Lorenz ruts into the touch, “Come on now, wouldn’t be proper to leave the adoring masses waiting.”

It only takes a little more pressure for orgasm to well over him and he sinks his teeth into his lower lip to stifle his groans as he comes in the lace. Claude’s hand lifts away almost immediately, like he already knows that the lace is going to be torture enough. 

He curves down, resting his cheek against Claude’s shoulder as he tries to bring his breathing back down to normal.

“Promise I’ll clean you up later,” Claude murmurs against his hair, broad palm at Lorenz’s back now, sliding up the curve of his spine and back down.

Lorenz absently pets a hand down his chest before pushing up to meet Claude’s gaze, head tipping as he drops his gaze then drags it slowly back up, “And what about you?”

That gets him a sly, teasing grin, still blunted at the edges as Claude shifts under him, now doubt trying to relieve some pressure, but when Lorenz dips a hand down, he catches it, brings it back up to his chest, “After the party,” he says and his eyes are still dark pools, cheeks still red, “I’d like—”

Humming, Lorenz cuts him off, rubbing a thumb under his lower lip, wiping away the gloss that remains, “You could ride my face, if you’d like,” he says, calmly casual as Claude shifts again under him, pressing his thighs together. Satisfied, he slides out of Claude’s lap and straightens his skirt, does his best to fix his hair, “Think about that for the rest of the night.”

Claude groans, a low sound, and tips his head back against the door with a heave of his chest as he exhales, “Lorenz,” his tone not unlike when people invoke the goddess.

“Up now, I have guests to see to.”

It draws a laugh out of Claude who shakes his head and stands, though his gait wobbles a little as he pushes the chair to the side, pulling the door open, “After you, princess.”

Lorenz pinches his side as he brushes past, chin high, though the kitchen outside this pantry is empty. A hand touches his lower back and then Claude is leading them possibly back the way they came, though he wouldn’t place money on it as they come to a door, the dull murmur of chatter on the other side.

Claude draws him to a stop, presses up to kiss his cheek, then reaches around him to open the door.

“Thank you, dear,” Lorenz says quietly, then slides out the door to rejoin the party, aware of when Claude slides out the door himself moments later.

Hilda is at his side only moments after that, looping her arm through his, “Couldn’t even wait til your actual wedding night, could you?” She asks, grin far too knowing.

Lorenz sighs loudly, but his attention is drawn by Claude’s laugh carrying over the din of the crowd and he pats Hilda’s hand, “When you finally put a ring on Marianne’s finger, you’ll understand.” She splutters and goes an interesting shade of splotchy red and he looks again, finds Claude looking back and smiles at the wink that’s sent his way.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm @vowofenmity on twitter.


End file.
